


Let the Poets Cry Themselves to Sleep

by Alcoholic_Kangaroo



Category: Magic 2.0 Series - Scott Meyer
Genre: Age Difference, Homophobia, M/M, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:07:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27193537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alcoholic_Kangaroo/pseuds/Alcoholic_Kangaroo
Summary: Jimmy is dating a younger man and Roy, being from the 70s, isn't exactly comfortable with the idea.
Relationships: Jimmy Sadler/OMC, Jimmy Sadler/Phillip McCall
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	Let the Poets Cry Themselves to Sleep

**Author's Note:**

> It is never explained HOW everyone was able to check in on Jimmy before Phillip meets him again in 2018. At that time, none of them had learned the way to skip through the years. I think it’s implied that Jimmy was living in 2012 or later (I mean, he could have traveled back to 1986 but I don’t know, he lived all the years between 1986 and 2012 so it kind of seems weird to me that he would?) which means a lot of them wouldn’t have been able to go that far forward. For this reason, I’m just going to say fuck it and ignore that plot point.

The entire point of checking in on Jimmy is to make sure he isn’t getting up to anything nefarious. However, if somebody knows that you’ll be showing up to check in on them, it sort of defeats the purpose. If the wizards had handed the older man a tidy little list of pre-scheduled appointments and told him to be ready for their visits, then he would obviously hide any evil plans he was cooking up ahead of the time. A feat that is especially easy considering that most of these plans would be nothing more than code on a computer. No, it’s best the visits are erratic, spread out across different days and times, and include many locations.

Usually, it isn’t difficult to locate Jimmy anyway. He spends a good chunk of his time in his penthouse, the majority of it really, if you count the time he is asleep, though he also frequents a number of expensive, upscale restaurants and books swanky rooms at luxurious hotels on a number of tropical beaches. He never appreciates when one of the wizards visits him during one of these vacations. Oh, he hides it well, his annoyance at the sudden intrusions at a time that should be set aside for rest and relaxation, but even Merlin’s poker face is not perfect. If you know what you are looking for there are always some tell-tale signs. A slight tightness to his jaw, a stiffness in his shoulders.

Wide eyes and a look of panic, however, are usually not included in these signs. Jimmy is not perfect at hiding his emotions but usually he still masks them better than this. Nevertheless, this is exactly the sight that greets Jeff and Roy when they appear in the middle of Jimmy’s kitchen on March fourteenth, two thousand and seventeen. The look is fleeting. A second long. Half a second long, maybe. Surely no longer than that before Jimmy is reigning in his emotions; a blink and you’ll miss it second of his humanity. The person sitting across from Jimmy doesn’t even notice Jimmy’s expression, too absorbed with something on his phone screen, his gaze only tilting up when Jimmy sputters out a greeting.  
  
“Roy, Jeff,” the gray-haired man oozes in that slimy yet congenial way that only Jimmy is capable of pulling off. “I didn’t even hear you come in.”

The young man sitting across the table from Jimmy turns to look over his shoulder, a surprised expression on his face that he makes no attempt to disguise. Jeff only catches sight of one blue eye half-covered in blond bangs before Jimmy is stepping into his line of vision, holding out a hand to greet Jeff. This is far removed from Jimmy’s normal way of interacting with them on their visits, too reminiscent of a businessman feigning forced interest in a potential client. Jeff takes Jimmy’s hand, awkwardly, and Jimmy’s grip is crushing despite his smallness and his age. Jeff mouths a couple silent “ow’s” but he gets the picture. Whoever this person is, he does not know about them and he does not know about the file.

“Ethan, these are a couple of friends of mine,” Jimmy beams, turning to the side so they can see each other. “Roy, Jeff, this is Ethan.”

Ethan stands to greet them. He’s very young looking. Young enough to be Jimmy’s son. Hell, he could be Jimmy’s grandson, if things had gone differently in his life. Baby-faced. Wavy, chin-length blond hair that accentuates the clearness of his blue eyes. Very straight, very white teeth but there’s the telltale glint of Invisalign braces coating them.

Jeff’s eyes dart around the room quickly, absorbing the scene in seconds. There’s a stack of textbooks on the kitchen table between two nearly empty plates of food, a school bag leaning against one of the heavy wooden legs. Thanks to the open floor plan of Jimmy’s penthouse he can see into part of the living room from this angle and Jeff spots an electric guitar leaning against the back of the couch. A PS4 on the coffee table, the wires draped over the top of it like a rolled-up forkful of spaghetti. A couple of cardboard boxes stacked up in one corner, overflowing with clothes that mostly seem to consist of t-shirts and jeans. Jeff recognizes the design of a Fall Out Boy t-shirt.

Roy looks confused but he shakes the young man’s hand when it is offered. Jeff follows suit, almost missing the greeting as he digests his surroundings. The boy’s palm is very soft, and Jeff knows if it weren’t for the musician callouses, he would have the type of hand that would indicate this young man has never seen a day of manual labor in their life. Jeff also knows from the look on the older man’s face that Roy is already judging his weak handshake. He’s also judging the slight eyeliner rimming his eyes and the piercing in his lower lip. Did boys wear eyeliner in the 70s?

“I’m sure Ethan would love to stay and have a visit with you two but, unfortunately, he has to get to class,” Jimmy excuses the boy, and Jeff can’t help but notice that Jimmy is all but shoving him out the front door with his words. The blond looks confused, but he gathers up the books on the table at Jimmy’s urging and slips them into the canvas messenger bag that had been leaning against the table. The strap fits across his body like a perfectly molded glove. He’s the sort of kid that looks like he should always be carrying a messenger bag on his person.

“I, I guess I shouldn’t be late again,” the boy agrees in a somewhat nasal drawl, but Jeff can see the hurt in his eyes. Jeff knows what is going on here and this boy, Ethan, knows what’s going on here, and he’s obviously upset that Jimmy doesn’t want him to be around his so-called friends. Jimmy walks the boy to the front door, around the corner and cut off from their line of vision. Jeff hears a few quiet words exchanged between them on the other side of the wall, then a soft wet sound that could be nothing but a goodbye kiss, before the door closes with a final sounding click. The sound of metal locks being turned then soft footsteps on the wooden floor.

“Gentlemen,” Jimmy greets as he returns to the kitchen, all smiles. Jeff notices for the first time he’s only wearing a bathrobe and a pair of fluffy looking green slippers. “Are you hungry? I have some leftover scrambled eggs on the stove. I can cook up some more sausage in just a couple minutes if you have time to spare. I bought them from this local butcher shop, they’re based off a traditional recipe from-”

“No,” Roy replies in his normal gruff voice, all piss and vinegar. He’s nearly vibrating at Jeff’s side with concealed anger. “We ate before we came. What are you up to Jimmy? Who was that? Are you trying to recruit some kids to carry out your dirty work now? That’s low, even for you.”

“Roy,” Jeff cuts in, laying a hand on the man’s shoulder. He can’t actually feel any part of his actual body through the thickness of his trench coat, but he can somehow sense the tightness of his muscles through it all. “Let it go. The kid’s not important.”

“Not important?” Roy demands, turning to look at Jeff with a look of contempt he rarely aims toward his direction. His face is red. “We don’t know what he’s doing with this kid in his apartment. Jimmy isn’t the type to just make friends, he’s the type to create accomplices, and this Ethan is a college kid. I bet he’s up to date on all the newest technology. This is extremely important.”

Jeff shoots a glance towards Jimmy. Normally, the flushed expression of embarrassment on the older man’s face would be amusing, but given the circumstance Jeff can’t help but feel a little discretion would be prudent. He’s not the biggest fan of Jimmy but given the penance he’s already paid, Jeff feels like this is something they should just let him have.

“Roy, I’m pretty sure I know what that kid is doing in this apartment and I think it’s best if we just let it go,” Jeff urges once more, trying his best to sooth Roy’s usually explosive temperament with his own calm tone. In some ways, the two of them are opposites – Roy explodes with a hair trigger, Jeff is almost unshakeable. It works for the two of them. Jeff has somebody always there when his cool, calm, and collected manner isn’t paying off, and Roy has somebody there to reel him in when he’s going off the deep end. But today Roy isn’t having it.

“He could be having this kid do the coding for him where we can’t see it,” Roy sounds exasperated. He thinks he’s trying to make Jeff see something he’s missing when in reality Roy is missing the truth entirely. The truth is a target the size of a barn, but Roy is shooting in the opposite direction.

“He’s an art history major,” Jimmy supplies, helpfully. He takes a seat back at the table and picks up his fork, obviously content to continue with his breakfast even if the other two haven’t taken him up on his offer to join him. As if there were a possibility. Roy is so stiff beside him that Jeff isn’t even sure if he is capable of bending his legs to sit. “With a minor in music theory. He can barely figure out how to turn down the volume on his laptop. I promise, he isn’t doing any coding for me. I don’t even let him near my computer.”

“Then why would he be here,” Roy challenges again, squinting at Jimmy. Jeff stays close to him, almost touch him. He can feel the heat radiating off Roy’s body, weaves of red-hot anger. “Why would you have some teenager-”

“He’s twenty-one,” Jimmy cuts in, sounding somewhat smug over these particular words. Then he pops another piece of sausage in his mouth and chews. Jeff feels vaguely ill.

“Why,” Roy continues, both acknowledging and ignoring Jimmy’s addition, “would you have some kid in your apartment at eight in the morning, before you’ve even had time to get dressed?”

“Roy,” Jeff sighs, bringing his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “Do you really not get it? He was here this early because he lives here. I’ve got that right, Jimmy? He lives here with you?”

“For about two months now,” Jimmy agrees. The flush has completely left his face now and, if anything, he seems rather amused by Roy’s obliviousness with the situation. He sets down his fork and folds his arms on the table in front of him, smiling in bemusement.

He’s enjoying this, Jeff realizes. He may not have gone out of his way to set up a meeting between the boy and them, but it happened and now that the boy isn’t around to accidentally stumble upon their secret, Jimmy is having fun with this situation. He wants to show off his boytoy to the others. He is a trophy, of some sort, a testament to his accomplishments. He’s a pretty little blond personification of Jimmy’s success.

“He lives with you?” Roy asks, and somehow, someway, he still sounds confused. “Why?”

Jimmy chuckles. Jeff just feels sorry for Roy. He is so off track here it is painful to watch him struggle.

“Let me, let me just talk to him in private,” Jeff excuses them both. He touches Roy’s shoulder for a second, not thinking, quickly pulling back a second later as if he had been burned. “We’ll be back in an hour, so feel free to shower and all that.”

“Appreciated,” Jimmy nods, still smiling, and Jeff wants to smack the expression off his face because now he has to have this conversation with Roy and it isn’t something he had planned on having with him anytime soon. Roy shows more anger at being pulled away from what he perceives as a suspicious situation, but Jeff makes it clear he’s unwilling to discuss it as he disappears, reappearing in their own home. He waits a couple seconds, afraid that Roy may have disobeyed his request to follow him, but Roy appears about ten seconds later, face still red.

“How can you just leave after we’ve caught him red-handed with-”

“That boy was Jimmy’s lover!” Jeff cries out, not knowing how else to get this across. “I don’t know if he’s his boyfriend or just some male prostitute that he struck up a relationship with or what, but they’re obviously dating in some capacity.”

Roy looks shocked for a moment, then confused, then repulsed. He curls his upper lip as if he had just smelled something long dead and rotting. He sounds like he’s gagging as he sputters out the next couple words.

“Jimmy’s gay?”

“He’s, he’s bi,” Jeff replies, deflating. He walks over to his personal bar and picks up a bottle of gin he knows Roy likes. The clear liquid splashing into the tumblers is the only noise that penetrates the room for a moment. Then the cracking sound of the seal breaking on the small bottle of tonic water. He adds precisely three cubes of ice to Roy’s glass, exactly as he prefers it, and hands it to the older man. Roy takes it from him but doesn’t make any motion to actually drink it.

Jeff takes his own drink across the room and flops down on his overstuffed leather couch. It’s his furniture even though it’s their home. He had bought it before he had even known Roy and Roy has always preferred his old pea-green corduroy chair he had brought with him from his own time over the slick black leather. The retro piece was somewhat of an eyesore but worked surprisingly well as an accent piece.

“You know he likes women,” Jeff continues. “He’s shown interest in them right in front of you. But yeah, he’s bi. When I first met him, he and Phillip were dating.”

“Phillip?” Roy demands, sounding even more upset. “Those two were dating? That’s disgusting!”

“It was before he became Merlin,” Jeff explains, tiredly. He takes a sip of his drink and then lets the hand holding it fall to his side. He tilts his head up to look at the ceiling, counting the tiles for a moment in his head. It’s a soothing habit, one that he picked up as a very small child to help him deal with anxiety. When he had the old warehouse refurbished there had been no actual need for the ceiling tiles, but he had ordered them put in place out of nostalgia. “I know it sounds sort of gross now but you didn’t know him back then. Jimmy used to be very handsome when he was younger. Pretty, even. You look at him now and just see this old man but-”

“I don’t care what he looked like,” Roy interrupts. Jeff hears him take a seat across from him. Ruffling cloth, the scrape of the wooden legs pushing back across the stone floor. “He’s a man. Two men dating? That’s revolting.”

Jeff sighs again. He recounts the same ceiling tiles a second time. He cares about Roy, a lot, but sometimes he can be so frustrating. He knows it isn’t Roy’s fault, he’s a product of his era, but still.

He never really thought he’d have to be explaining this sort of thing to him. If he waited long enough Roy would experience the gay rights era himself, right?

Jeff pulls himself straight and looks at Roy, his drink cold and wet with condensation in his hands. It hides the clamminess, at least.

“Roy,” he starts slowly, as slowly as he thinks he can get away with, “In my time, things have changed a lot. Being gay isn’t considered that big of a deal.”

“How can it not be a big deal?” Roy demands to know. Nonsensically, Jeff notices his drink is missing. It’s across the room, left melting on the bar. “I can see two women maybe deciding men aren’t worth it and getting together, but two men? Do you know how dirty that is? Do you know how two men have sex together? It’s disgusting.”

“I’m, I’m just going to ignore that right now. I don’t need to give you a lesson on the different types of sexual activities,” Jeff decides. He knows that Roy is thinking about anal sex specifically. Isn’t that what relationships between two men was to people in the 70s? Just a bunch of jokes about men sticking their dicks in each other’s assholes? “But what I mean is, well, it’s not a big deal. I mean, sure, you still have some ignorant rednecks in the backwoods and stuff. But gays can get married by the 2020s. Celebrities are out of the closet. There are gay and transgender character in kids cartoons. A gay man ran for president a couple years ago and he didn’t do that bad. Listen, you haven’t even lived through the AIDS era yet-”

“AIDS?”

“I- No, I can’t do that right now,” Jeff shakes his head as if he can just shake away that little tidbit he just let slip. There is so much that Roy doesn’t understand about the future. Some of it he’s best not learning about until he must. “Another time, okay?”

“Whatever,” Roy brushes off Jeff’s request. It feels petty but Jeff has to reason that AIDS means nothing to Roy. He may be talking about a television show or the name of a president, as far as Roy is aware. “So, what. I’m just supposed to be okay with a dirty old man taking advantage of some impressionable kid?”

“The age difference is a bit uncomfortable,” Jeff admits, fighting back the squirming feeling in his own belly. He tries to ignore it. “But would it be any different if it had been a girl?”

“Yes,” Roy argues, his tone deep and serious. “That would be a totally different situation.”

“Why?” Jeff asks.

“Because, because Jimmy wouldn’t be warping some girl’s mind,” Roy explains, “It’s normal for men to date younger women. Maybe some people don’t agree with that, but it’s been normal for centuries. And in the end, it’s still a natural relationship between a man and a woman. But Jimmy is convincing some impressionable youth to go against biology itself.”

Biology? They’re all a computer program. Their biology doesn’t even exist. Maybe male and female is only part of the program itself. Somehow, though, Jeff thinks this argument isn’t the one that needs to be brought up right now. Roy has never been into the “what if” side of their existence as much as some of the others. He likes things simple.

“I doubt Jimmy convinced him he’s into men,” Jeff responds, “Hell, it’s hard to find a teenager in my day that doesn’t think they’re at least bi.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. It’s kind of a fad,” Jeff admits, scratching at his nose. “Not, not being bi or gay or whatever. But identifying yourself by your identity. It’s sort of cliquish. You know, the jocks, the preps, and the gays.”

“Why would anyone want to be gay?” Roy asks, frowning again.

“It’s not that simple,” Jeff replies. “Sexuality isn’t that simple. Not anymore. For generations people have been told to repress parts of themselves that don’t fit the correct narrative. But maybe that narrative isn’t so easy. Maybe everybody has a little bit of bisexuality in them? Or most do, anyway? Haven’t you maybe ever looked at another guy and thought he was just a bit attractive? Just once or twice?”

“Absolutely not,” Roy replies, shutting down the discussion before it even has a chance to start. “I’m not a fag. I like women and only women. Too much. That’s why my wife left me, if I have to be perfectly honest.”

Right, his wife. Roy has mentioned her before, in passing. Jeff doesn’t think they’re technically divorced but Roy has hinted once or twice that he had been caught cheating. Given the sketchy details, Jeff had wondered on occasion about the gender of the person Roy had been caught cheating on her with. Well, he’s got an answer. Jeff sat forward, setting his drink on the coffee table.

“Come on, man,” Jeff persists, guesting with his hands as he needles at him. “I’m not saying you consciously wanted to kiss a dude or something. I’m just saying, haven’t you ever looked at another guy. Maybe he just had a nice haircut, or he was wearing a nice suit or something. And you thought to yourself, ‘Wow, he looks really good today?’”

“No.”

Jeff groans and reaches up to rub a bit too aggressively at his own eyes. He slams his fists back down onto his knees.

“You’re lying!”

The other man stares at him for a moment, looking dumbfounded that Jeff of all people would accuse him of such a thing.

“I am not!” Roy spits out.

“You are!” Jeff insists. “Even a straight man can appreciate how another man looks. I’m not asking you to even admit it was at all sexual. I was just trying to make a comparison to appreciating somebody’s appearance and sexuality and you can’t even concede that you even notice other men.”

“I’m not a fag,” Roy repeats. “I like women. I like looking at them, kissing them, fucking them. Why is that so hard for you to understand?”

“You can like women and still think men look good, one doesn’t negate the other!”

“Are you saying you are attracted to both?” Roy challenges, suddenly turning the argument back on Jeff. “Is that what you’re saying? You’re into guys?”

Jeff grits his teeth and goes silent. Stopping himself from saying something he’ll regret. He picks up his drink again and takes a swallow from it, giving himself a moment to think. He needs time. They both some, he decides.

“Listen, I think you probably need some time to think about this stuff,” Jeff suggests. His jaw aches from biting down so hard. “How about we just take a couple days apart. I’ll go deal with Jimmy myself. And we’ll talk some more in a few days, okay?”

Roy is quiet for a long moment, seemingly thinking over the proposal. He looks around the lofty warehouse, at the home they share.

“Yeah,” he agrees, setting his untouched drink on the coffee table. He doesn’t even use one of the NES cartridge shaped coasters that Jeff had shelled out thirty bucks for. “I’d like to head back home for awhile anyway. I have some old friends I’d like to see. I think a bit of time apart may be a good idea.”

“I’ll be here when you’re ready to talk,” Jeff says, standing up when he sees Roy already reaching for his staff. It isn’t that he needs to see him off, exactly, but he feels like he needs to make sure Roy knows everything is good between them still. He reaches for Roy’s hand, shaking it firmly in parting. Then like that Jeff is left alone in their house with nothing but his own thoughts.

He finishes his drink and pours himself a second. The warehouse seems empty in a way it hasn’t in a long while. It’s an absurd thought. Roy is a very quiet roommate and he often spends hours alone in his separate bedroom, silently reading. Somehow, Jeff still feels a cold echo throughout the building. Something, someone, is missing, and the very structure of the warehouse recognizes this fact. It’s an abandoned, haunting feel. Jeff finishes his second drink before he goes to see Jimmy.

Jimmy is dressed and his gray hair is slicked back but still damp. He hasn’t been out of the shower for long. He’s waiting for Jeff with a cup of hot tea on a small coffee table beside his Eames lounger. His penthouse, in comparison to Jeff’s place, feels warm, homey and lived in. There’s a newspaper in his hands, a remnant of an era that for all intents and purposes has passed. Jeff can’t recall if he’s ever purchased a newspaper in his life. Jimmy lowers the paper and looks over it when Jeff appears.

“Where’s your other half?” Jimmy quips, laying the folded paper on one thin thigh. It’s been years since he re-joined the wizarding community but he’s still lean and wiry from the decades he spent on that bicycle. Jeff wonders if that boy is into that sort of thing, then wishes he hadn’t.

“He had some stuff to attend to,” Jeff begins to lie, but then he shakes his head. “No. He didn’t want to come. He may have some…less than latent homophobia to deal with.”

“Ah,” Jimmy says, understanding immediately what Jeff was implying. He reaches for his tea, careful to pick it up by the handle. Steam rises from the hot brown liquid. “So I’m guessing he wasn’t exactly willing to congratulate me on my new relationship?”

“Jesus, Jimmy,” Jeff curses. He sits down on the loveseat adjacent to Jimmy’s chair. It’s black leather, like the furniture at his and Roy’s place, but somehow it feels more expensive than his own. As if his were made out of old dairy cows and Jimmy’s was constructed from some expensive Japanese Kobe bovine. “Where did you even find that kid? At a high school science fair? He’s barely legal.”

“For your information, I met him at a charming little coffee shop near the campus,” Jimmy frowns at Jeff in a way that shows disappointment. As if he expected better from Jeff, perhaps. He and Jimmy aren’t friends exactly, but Jeff has been more civil towards him than most of the others since he regained his powers. “He was performing during an open mic session. I liked his music. I bought a copy of his CD from him, then I bought him a coffee, then I brought him back here for a drink. It was all very natural, I assure you.”

“You know he’s just using you for your money, don’t you?” Jeff prods, not exactly wanting to dig deeper into the details of this entire affair but also finding himself strangely intrigued by it all. There had always been something vaguely asexual about Jimmy, despite his past relationship with Phillip. That union, according to Phillip at least, had all been a ruse on Jimmy’s part to cajole and use Phillip for his own needs.

“ _He had noticed my stupid naïve crush on him and took advantage of it_ ,” Phillip had confessed to Jeff over a bottle of Scotch and a stack of Phil Collins albums on a drizzling rainy afternoon. “ _I’d never known a gay man before and I was intrigued at how casually he mentioned his rich ex-boyfriend who paid his way through Caltech. It was foolish of me, but I became fixated on him and he knew he could use that fixation to manipulate me. I wish I could go back in time and stop myself from ever falling for his rubbish. I mean, I could go back in time, but well, you know._ ”

“I’m not an idiot,” Jimmy chides. His voice sounds a little hoarse and the words seem to catch for a moment. He brings the mug of tea to his lips and sips at it, ingesting the liquid over several hard swallows. “Sorry, the dry winter air, it dries out my sinuses. As I was saying, what can I do? I can’t date another wizard. I’m a pariah and, even if I weren’t, I’m older than the rest of you in appearance by decades. Not exactly a prize catch.”

Okay, true, Jeff concedes.

“Just because you can’t date another wizard doesn’t mean you need to go for jailbait,” Jeff says.

“No, it doesn’t,” Jimmy concedes but there’s a bite to his words, a hint of resentment there. “But what if I do date a mortal near my own age? What happens then? They ask questions about what I do for a living. Where did I get all my money? And where do I want this relationship heading? I can’t exactly explain any of that or make long term plans when they notice they keep aging and I don’t. But college kids looking for a sugar daddy? They don’t ask questions, Jeff. They just want somebody to take care of them. And I like Ethan. He’s a sweet kid. I know he’ll get bored in a year or two. Once he graduates he’ll move on, find a job in another city. He’ll be long gone before he has a chance to notice that I’m not getting any older. I’m sure I’ll miss him but I’m enjoying what we have for now. I’ll make sure he has a nice little nest egg to start off with when he leaves me.”

Jimmy is mirroring his own school relationship, Jeff realizes. At one time Jimmy had been a poor but cute college kid with an older male benefactor. Now Jimmy has the means to spoil a kid like had had once been. Of course he thinks this entire setup is acceptable, he’s lived it through both sides. It’s almost like he’s now Brit the Elder, reliving his earlier experiences through more mature eyes.

“Then what?” Jeff asks. He leans back and the leather does not squeak beneath him like his own couch would. He crosses one leg over the other, his ankle almost resting atop his knee. “Then you’ll be alone again. Or will you just find another cute young college boy to hook up with?”

“Could be a girl,” Jimmy suggests with a shrug. He sets his tea back down and lays the half-read newspaper beside it. “But girls get attached so easily. They’re messy.”

Jeff feels like he should be insulted on the behalf of girls everywhere. But he also gets it.

“Anyway,” Jimmy moves on. He stands up without difficult and stretches his arms behind his shoulders, loosening himself up. “I do have some meetings today. Golfing with a couple guys at 11 then we’re going out for lunch at this winery. Beautiful place. Up on a hill side, you can see for miles. True, the only thing visible for miles is vineyards, but I hold to my original statement. Come along. We could use a fourth.”

“I’m not much of a golfer,” Jeff apologizes, though he knows that Jimmy’s offer wasn’t sincere to begin with. “Can I take a quick look at your computer before you leave?”

“Of course,” Jimmy agrees, as he always agrees. The entire process seems perfunctory. Why would Jimmy try to do anything disreputable right when his life is coming back together? In all likelihood he probably has another laptop hidden somewhere in his penthouse anyway. One that he uses for his more questionable practices.

Jeff sits down at the high-end desktop, nonetheless, and pretends to be interested in looking through the programs and files. His heart isn’t into it. He clicks through the various Word documents inside the folder simply labeled MACROS. There are a few new ones but nothing in the codes seem particularly sinister.

“Hey, Jimmy,” Jeff says, attempting his best to sound distracted, disinterested, though there’s an aching in his chest. He keeps his back to him. “Can I get that letter back?”

“Letter?” Jimmy’s voice sounds puzzled for a moment. “Ah, yes. Are you sure? I’ve barely had a chance to look at it.”

These words somehow both make Jeff feel oddly relieved yet anxious. Had his writing been so bad that Jimmy had taken one look at it and decided he couldn’t deal with it right then? Jeff knows he isn’t as good with his words as Jimmy is, that he lacks the heart of a poet in his chest, but he had been as sincere as he possibly could when writing it. Still, there’s a sense of relief knowing he can just take the thing home and burn it, never worry about anybody else reading his pathetic attempt to spill his guts through paper and pen.

“I’m sure,” Jeff agrees. He opens the next document. “Thank you for agreeing to help me with it, but I think it’s just a waste of both our time.”

There’s a subtle pressure on his shoulder, Jimmy laying a hand on him from behind.

“Maybe if you just give it some time…”

Jeff shakes his head but doesn’t speak. He closes the documents and scrolls down to the next line of files in the folder. Jimmy sighs and steps away. He’s back less than a minute later. A piece of college-ruled loose-leaf paper is set on the desk to the left of his keyboard. Jeff can’t help but glance quickly towards it, at the first couple words on the top left of the paper.

_Dear Roy_


End file.
